


Tony and Loki in the Silver verse

by flight815kitsune



Series: silver verse [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Loki Has Issues, M/M, Past Torture, Rimming, just because you fight with the heroes doesn't make you perfect
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-10
Updated: 2014-03-11
Packaged: 2018-01-04 03:33:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1076035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flight815kitsune/pseuds/flight815kitsune





	1. Thor finds out

Loki has a line on his face from the edge of the arc reactor.

“Brother! I was told that you…” Thor's voice trails off.

Oh. That was what had woken him up. The door slamming off of its hinges.

A slightly confused Thor stares.

“G’mornhn.” Tony mumbles, half asleep, offering a halfhearted yawn. It made one wonder the chaos he saw day-to-day that would make an entry like that common.

Loki extricates himself from the arms of the engineer. He untangles himself from the blankets.

Thor’s gaze travels down.

A wave of his hand eliminates last night’s mess.

Thor pouts at the still form of Tony Stark. “Brother…” and that tone was familiar. “Come here.”

Thor was…not angry. Not at him, anyway. Interesting.

Tony’s hand finds Loki’s arm and may have succeeded in pulling him down if he hadn’t been entirely awake.

Thor steps forward.

“Thor. You have returned ahead of schedule.”

Being pushed and dragged by one's older brother into an elevator is never something to be proud of, but doing so the morning after sleeping with one of his friends truly adds to the experience. 

Thor's silence only served to make it worse. 

 

"Clothe yourself."

Loki selects some apparel from the dresser. A shirt with Stark's armor featured on the front is chosen purely for the way it makes Thor's eye twitch. 

 

“Anthony has a reputation.” Thor sits on the edge of the bed.

“I am aware.”

“He touched you.”

“I am not opposed to such contact.”

“You need not indulge him for fear of retribution.”

“Mother went over this a few _hundred_ years ago.”

“Loki.” A touch of anger, a pinch of disgust.

“Thor.” Matching his brother’s tone.

“You would let him treat you like that?”

“Why not? Can I not take a mortal lover as you have? It seems to have done wonders for your disposition.”

“That is not-“

“I know for a fact that you have lain with allies. Do not think that simply because I have not mentioned what occurred between you and Sif that I am ignorant of it.”

“I-“

“If anything, Stark is a man of status and thus more preferable to a prince of Asgard than your common scientist.”

“You test my patience.”

“As you so frequently test mine.”

“Is this revenge, then? You would lie beneath him to bother me?”

“I do not believe our actions behind closed doors are your business.”

“I did not free you from them so that you could seek such treatment here.”

It was a low blow. “Are you truly so burdened by curiosity? I sought nothing. This opportunity has presented itself and I would be a fool to not take advantage of it. The sounds he makes beneath me are but a pleasant bonus.”

“Loki-“

“He _begs_  me for it.”

A fist flies and Loki sees stars.

With a smirk and more noise than was entirely necessary, Loki leaves his brother behind.

 

 


	2. how it started

It had started when Thor had gone to be with Jane. A week, nothing more. She wished to show him...something. It had been unclear as to if their destination were some far-off locale or merely her current living quarters. This had left Loki alone.

Loki was tired. With circumstances as they were, sleep had become routine. He had not anticipated his brother's absence would impact him so strongly. He could not remember much of his dreams, but they plagued him. Waking up with a scream caught in his throat for the fifth time had been enough to make him question the alternatives. While he could, hypothetically, remain awake, the stubborn desire to rest led to him lying in bed every night. Unwilling wakefulness had quickly outweighed the sleep he managed to grab in tattered scraps when he shut his eyes.   

Stark had been easy to find. Absorbed in his work, he hadn't noticed a guest taking a seat on his floor. It was far too easy to relax in the lab, with the sounds of metal and Tony talking out equations to his screens.

“Hey.”  A hand on his shoulder. “I’m headed upstairs. You coming?”

Blinking, stretching.

“Time for sleep."

"I believe that was what I was succeeding at prior to your interruption." He stood, brushing mostly-imagined dirt from his clothes.  

When he pressed the number for Thor's floor, the other man looked confused.

"You're still living with Thor?”

“Yes.”

"I thought we gave you a floor already."

A shrug. It was not beyond the realm of possibility.

"Doesn't he snore?"

“I’ve grown accustomed to it.” He missed it. He _desired_ it.

“I guess with him gone, you get the bed now.”

“Having it to myself has benefits and disadvantages.”

Tony was silent for a moment. “You two share?”

“I admit that, as of late, sleep comes easier when I am not alone.” And that truth was bitter. He shouldn’t have shared it.

“If you want you can crash with me.” His grin had surely tempted others. 

“Perhaps some other time.”

 

He was irritable due to a lack of sleep, and had snapped at his team mates over petty things. And still he found solace listening to Stark work.

The other man talked to him as though he understood every phrase that was thrown at him. He agreed where he had to and occasionally was able to add input. It was never much, as the gaps in terminology and methods used varied greatly between their realms.  

"You bored, Princess?"

_One guard behind him, the other in front. The one behind places one hand on his hip, the other under his arm. The contact alone makes him want to flinch but it would be worse. Tugged back and unable to even attempt to put some of the weight on his feet. He was unable to actually stand, with what they had done, but he could try to take the pressure off of his hands. The cuffs pull at his wrists, the metal digs into the flesh below his thumb. Every cut stretched tighter, the stitches pulling through his skin scream. The bones in one arm, previously broken, are pulled apart by the added weight. Shaking. It’s easier to let his head loll back than to try and keep it upright. The bruises on his throat protest, but his scalp is thankful that at least his hair was unlikely to be pulled. He can feel the wet of the other male’s cock against his skin. The guard presses in with one long motion. Loki is only able to shudder.The one behind him snickers._

_“This was our king?” The one in front sneers._

_“No.” He grips the prince’s cock. Nails dig like claws into bruised testicles.The guard behind him presses his lips to the topmost of the lash wounds, and then runs his tongue along it.Loki’s throat clicks as he tries to swallow. He shuts his eyes, trying not to fight.A blade is pressed against his throat. It’s sad that the chill of the flat piece of metal registers more as something soothing to the purpled flesh than a threat._

_“Do we bore you, princess?” The words are a growl. “We can make things more interesting.”_

_Let him see the fear. Don’t bother to hide it; he’ll only force you to show your hand eventually. Exaggerate it to keep him happy._

_“That’s better.” The words almost felt like praise._

"Heeeeyyy..." Stark poked him with a sneakered toe. 

“You recall when you told me you dislike the scent of sand? I would rather you keep the princess comments to a minimum, Stark.”

“Sure thing, Merlin. But you never answered me on how you feel about the color purple."

****  
  


 

Tony Stark was a thinker. One could see it in his eyes that his mind was always running. A task could command most of that attention, but there were always a dozen little things going on in the background. His words only rarely hinted as to the myriad of thoughts his mind flitted to.

“You regret it?”

“Hmm?”

“The whole ‘trying to wreck planets’ thing.”

_What was the correct answer for that?_

“You don’t.” He was disappointed.

“I am...unsure.”

“Then you don’t.”

“I regret the amount of lives that were lost during the invasion. I would rather things had gone differently.”

“No, the other planet.”

“Jotunheim?”

“That’s the one.”

“Why would I regret what transpired there?”

Stark put down his tools to stare properly. “You tried to destroy an entire population.”

“They are inferior creatures who see no problem in being surrounded by ruin. They are mindless, murdering beasts.”

“You sure as hell aren’t mindless.”

“Of course not, I am-" Aesir. No. When he paused, the confidence deserted him. The not-quite-smile vanished like steam.

Stark just wore a smirk; one eyebrow quirked in a challenge. The accuracy could have been tolerated, if it hadn't been for the smug expression.

A hand wave sent the chair crashing down. “I am not like them.” Loki returned himself to Thor’s quarters with a flash of green.

****

On the second day of avoiding Stark like the plague, Barton approached him.“You and Tony are fighting.”

“Of course not.” Fighting would involve exchanging words. Or at least glances. Though the other man continued to send him literature, including colorful books for _children_ , that he had no interest in reading. 

“Listen. Tony is a dick.”

“But?”

“No buts. He’s a dick. If you stick around you get used to it. And hey, if you call him on it, sometimes he won’t fuck up for a while. Or he’ll make you stuff.”

He still enchanted every mug, glass, bottle, pot, and bowl to add cream and sugar to any coffee that Stark touched.

Watching him drink the steaming beverage from a bundt pan he stole from Steve was entertaining, if nothing else.

******  
**

 


	3. Chapter 3

  
"You want company?" Tony asked the next day. 

"I would not be opposed to it."

 

He woke in a bed that was definitely not Thor's to arms wrapped around him and a calloused hand splayed over his stomach. A hard edge dug into his back. He shifted, and the line of metal stubbornly remained across his shoulderblade. He shifted again, an attempt to align his body slightly lower.

“Quit wiggling.” A mumble as he squeezed him tighter.

“If you’re going to treat me like the women that have passed through your bed, at least do me the favor of not letting that device stab me in the shoulder.”

The puff of a laugh. “If I treated you like that, now would be time for some fun”

The audacity of it startles out an “Oh?”

“Do you doubt my reputation?”

“You have done nothing to support it.” This was all part of the bluff. Tony pushed the limits. He was testing them now.

“Oh ye of little faith.” He let his lips press a line across the top of the god’s shoulders.

His pulse raced quicker. This was familiar in all the wrong ways. The hand slipped lower and he didn’t hide the gulp. Fingertips pressed onward underneath the elastic waistband of the casual pants he was given. The engineer’s other thumb traced small circles across Loki’s ribcage. “You’re so tense.”

“My time in captivity made me wary towards breath on the back of my neck.”

“Hmm?” It seems to take a moment for his mind to process it in his half-asleep state. When it does, though, he stops. He pulls away, taking a hand back. “Oh.”

He remained in the same position. It had been comfortable, before. Perhaps Tony would return in a moment.

“Please tell me that the ‘Princess’ thing wasn’t related to this.”

“Go back to sleep.”

“Shit. I am the master of fucking things up.” He kept his disance. Close but too far away. Inches stretched like miles. There’s a moment of quiet.“Hey. I have an idea. Trust me?” And the smirk was in his voice, even if it wasn’t possible to see it.

“In matters like these, I suppose.” He trusted him with his life in the field. What was the harm in offering him his body, once, in the night?

“On your hands and knees.”

He complied without protest. The hint of panic when the warm body pressed against him was quickly quashed by those lips pressing a path down his spine. It took the effort of his strongest acts of deception to give a relaxed hum when Tony pulled down the pajama bottoms. They remained around his knees.Those kisses traveled over newly exposed flesh. Those hands, worker’s hands, fighter’s hands, moved down his sides and over his hips to his thighs. Thumbs ran up the inside of his legs from his knees. A silent request to spread himself further granted with no complaint, just an attempt at a questioning stare over his shoulder that the engineer didn’t meet. If Stark wanted to mount him like a dog, then he would play the part of obedient beast. The sensation of a wet tongue lapping over his hole shocked a gasp out of him. The carefully constructed image fell to pieces and was replaced by surprise. Tony had the audacity to chuckle. The puffs of air had Loki grasping the bed sheets as though they were the only thing keeping him grounded. The engineer’s ministrations continued. Kisses and licks traveled over the god’s ass and balls. Whoever had believed that Loki’s mouth was a thing of magic had never spent the night with Tony Stark.

The tongue demanded more, strokes getting firmer, penetrating. Loki’s shoulders shook.Tony took him in hand and that did nothing to stop it. The strokes were maddening. He bucked forward, desperately seeking more contact. “Tony.” The word was equal parts order, request, and prayer. The strokes up his thighs were neither gentle nor harsh. Something in the action was possessive, and the pull to spread him still further simply had to be complied with. Slow and steady, the fire burned. Teasing touches against a straining erection. The need for release overwhelmed. What seemed like an eternity passed dangling from a thread above an abyss before Tony’s touch, a fraction rougher, snapped it. Loki came with a strangled cry, trying to bury his face in the blankets in an act of modesty contrary to his current position. There were a few strokes and a kiss to his left asscheek before Tony moved back. Loki slumped forward and tried to compose himself. A slow return from ecstasy. After managing to control his expression, he rolled onto his back to stare at the other man properly.

Tony wore a huge grin. “Ravished is a good look on you. You should wear it more often.”

“Quiet.” A wave of his hand eliminated the mess.

“I fixed the tense-ness problem.” He curled up alongside the god. His knee overlapped Loki’s, his head on the god’s arm. His arm was across Loki’s chest, fingertips resting on his ribs.

 

He’s angry and he doesn’t know why. Stress and boredom and uncertainty, perhaps. Spending the night with the man had been good. It had been comfortable. And then Stark had done that thing with his tongue. If Loki’s cheeks bore the slightest flush at the memory, no one but Jarvis can hold witness. He goes down to the lab. Tony is watching numbers flash by on a screen. He doesn’t even turn when Loki strides in.

“Stark.”

If he hears any of the sharpness in the word, he ignores it. “Yeah, Blitzen?” That was just unacceptable.

He spins the chair around.“Why?” And he knew, he had to know. He pulls the other man to his feet using the dark shirt.

“You’re going to need to be more specific. You see, I’m a busy man and whatever you’re questioning is probably just one thing on a long list of things that I have done wrong. Pepper is in charge of at least half of that list, but if you want I can slate y-“ Loki wraps his hand around Tony’s throat. He could lift him like that. He pushes the shorter man against the wall.  “Curse your sudden but inevitable betrayal!” and he’s still not afraid. Still wears that grin.

“So help me, I will make you suffer if you don’t give me answers.”

He seems to grasp the edge in Loki’s eyes. The smile deserts him. “Why, what?”

“Last night. Why?”

“Because good looking things in my bed always get treated well?”

“That was not treated well.” He practically spits out the words. “That was not how two men act. If you were to treat me as a woman, that would have at least made sense. But you acted like some beast-”

The grin comes back. “I’ll admit, this is one of the stranger occasions where I’ve been called an animal.”

He groans in frustration. “You dirtied yourself for my pleasure. Why?”

“If I knew all it would take to cause a breakdown in a supervillain was to toss his salad, I’d do it more often.” He steps away from the wall. “Is this a culture thing? I’m going to assume this is a culture thing.  Thor still doesn’t seem to get the kissing thing; I’m betting if they don’t kiss like us in Asgard, they don’t fuck like us, either. Alright. Us earthlings, we have a lot of partners over our short lives. And our technology advances as quickly in that field as any other. If it feels good, we do it. It’s a human thing. I’m guessing, from the sounds you made, that you liked it. You don’t want me to do it, I don’t have to. But don’t worry about my honor. There isn’t any place for honor in my bedroom. Well, there can be but I don’t think you would be into that. I mean, there is potential because of the whole “kneel” thing…”

“Kissing thing?”

“Yeah. There was this couple when we went out. They were all over each other and Thor was disgusted. It was beautiful. Even Steve wasn’t so scandalized.”

Wary.

“I mean, it is a little weird that I’ve kissed your ass before your face, but rich geniuses get the benefit of eccentricity, you know.”

 


End file.
